“My Prince,” the archer called out, offering a dramatic bow, “I beg your forgiveness. I traveled from Achaia to compete in your grand tournament, but found myself waylaid on the journey through the Arden.” A wave of gasps and laughter went up from the crowd, and he grinned up at Johar, who smirked.
“Why risk the Arden when I have established a ferry to bring travelers safely from Achaia to Nottingham?”
“Forgive my boldness, Highness, but the ferry tolls have become exorbitant as of late. I am only a poor hunter, living by my wits and wiles, and my arrows.”
“Red-fletched arrows,” Johar said, raising an eyebrow. “I forbade such costumes at my tournament, and yet you come dressed as the treasonous thief, Robin Hood, anyway.”
“I must beg your forgiveness once again. I only arrived this morning and thought it was the local fashion.” The stranger spun with a sweep of his cloak while the crowd laughed. Johar seemed to relax, but then turned his attention back to Will, who stood there looking cowed while his father gripped his shoulder. His eyes shifted apprehensively from the stranger, to Johar, to me.
“Mister Scarlett,” said the Prince. “Since you could not manage to do your sovereign’s bidding, you shall not receive my favor. It will instead be given to this stranger, who has shown more loyalty and skill in the last five minutes than you have in your twenty-two wasted years.”
“Your Highness,” the masked archer said, leaning casually on his longbow, “I will accept your favor, gladly, but I do not seek to deprive the young man of a kiss I’m sure he is desperate for.”
Will’s face darkened and the banner around his shoulders fell into the dirt, but Johar turned to Helena and waved at the two men.
“Daughter,” he said patiently, “you may choose which champion receives your kiss and your invitation.” Looking far too eager, Helena made her way to the steps at the side of the stage. As she descended, Will turned to his father andsaid something I couldn’t make out. The reply was harsh, and Sheriff Scarlett practically shoved him forward. I watched Will’s panic take over, but there was nothing he could do now, or at least, nothing hewoulddo. Helena wrapped her hand around the back of his neck, and my chest caved with despair as their lips met. I looked away, straight into the shadowed eyes of the strange archer, which were trained on me.
A smattering of applause and cheers told me that Helena had peeled herself away from Will, but she did not go back to the box, instead clutching onto his arm with an adoring look on her face. Will looked at me, his face twisted with apologetic despair. I could tell how sorry he was, how confused and afraid and sad, but already, that small, merciful part of me had hardened. He had thrown away his final opportunity to be with me. It was done now, and he had chosen the life his father wanted for him. There was nothing left for us.
“Now, archer,” said Johar, dropping back onto his throne, “you have shown immense talent, and a flair for the dramatic. You must know how much I appreciate these things. What favor would you ask of me? I do hope it is something interesting.” He took a long drink of wine, then smacked his lips and leaned forward.
The pit in my stomach becoming deeper by the moment, I steeled myself to leave the tournament grounds alone. If I had to, I would walk into the Arden and find the Devil myself. All I knew was that I could not stay here. But before I could turn and push through the crowd, the masked archer leapt gracefully onto the top rail of the fence in front of the stands and I stopped to listen, curiosity getting the better of me.
“I ask only a moment of time, sire, that I might make a public declaration of affection!” he announced, addressing the Prince and the crowd with his arms spread wide like a great bird. “I traveled all this way only to shout it from the rooftops of the world. After all, to let love go undeclared is the ultimate foolishness of man, is it not?”
The crowd cheered and I caught Will’s eye, but he dropped his gaze to the dirt.
“Declare your love, then, stranger,” the Prince chuckled, “and take your lady away to declare it again in the privacy of a bed chamber, so my tournament might continue.”
The archer pulled one final arrow from his quiver and pointed it directly at me. When he spoke, his voice was thick with laughter that chilled me to the bone.
“Marina of Locksley! I have come to claim what you promised me.”
He fell gracefully from the fence and landed on his feet, then prowled toward me. The crowd had gone nearly silent now, but whispers still flew back and forthall around me. I couldn’t move, as if roots had burst from the earth and bound my ankles, holding me in place. Will suffered no such impediment, however. Wrenching his arm out of Helena’s grip, he pulled the sword from his father’s belt and took two steps toward the stranger.
“You will not touch her!” he shouted, leveling the blade in front of him. I tried to call out, beg him to stand down, but I choked on my own voice. I was forced to simply watch in horror as the archer halted his approach, smiled, and turned his back to me.
“You think you deserve her, Will Scarlett?” he asked, stalking back across the range. “Allow me to disabuse you of the notion that you are even fit to breathe her air.”
“I said you will not touch her!” Will cried again. He lunged, swinging his blade in an arc, but the stranger lifted his longbow and blocked the attack with ease. The bowstring snapped and he wielded it like a quarterstaff, spinning it over his head and bringing it down hard on Will’s arm with unnatural speed and strength. Will dodged another blow and swung at the stranger’s head. He avoided it by merely leaning backwards, laughing all the while. Once he had regained a solid stance, he struck Will in the stomach, sending him to his knees, gasping for air. Helena shrieked, the Prince called for his guards, and I found my voice again.
“Stop!” I nearly leapt over the fence in front of me, but Will stood, tightened his grip on the sword, and gave one last valiant effort. He managed to cleave the stranger’s longbow in half, but his opponent struck out with one end of it, landing a vicious blow across Will’s face, splattering blood in a wide arc. I screamed, and the stranger pivoted, strode across the range, then vaulted over the barricade, landing only inches in front of me.
I stood my ground and, if only to confirm what I already knew, whispered, “Devil…”
“Hello, May,” he replied with a merry smile. Terror gripped my chest and darkened the edges of my vision until all I could see were his eyes—one ice-blue and one deep brown. “You called?”
Before I could draw breath, he took my face between his hands and kissed me.
Chapter seven
Iron & Feathers
Everything stood still andsilent in the space where our lips met. I raised my hands to shove him away, but my muscles were suddenly weak and sluggish, and my eyes closed of their own accord. His mouth was soft, almost timid, against mine, with a sweet, earthy taste that reminded me of the Abbey’s black currant wine. Every brush of his fingers against my skin seemed to slow my racing heart, until he suddenly released me and the strength flowed back into my limbs. I put my hands on his chest and pushed hard, but only caused myself to stumble backwards and land hard on my tailbone.
When I opened my eyes, my heart jumped and I gasped. We were no longer standing beside the royal box on the tournament grounds. In fact, we were not in Nottingham at all. Trees loomed over me, filtering the golden sunlight through their canopies until only small patches glowed on my skin. Roots crawled across the leaf-littered grass, looking almost like a giant spider web, tangled and intersected. Between them grew riots of colorful wildflowers and freakishly large ferns, while veins of choking ivy crept up the mossy tree trunks.
In the blink of an eye, he had brought me back to the Forest of Arden.
